I am taking a moment to pen thought on one of the most abundant sources of entertainment. The TV Chef. Applaud the great titans of the art such as Heston and his Mad Hatters Nitrogen and Apricot Superiority Risotto and Nigella and her Cleavage and Lime Seduction Trifle. They are masters of turning food programming into a nonsensical cauldron of arousing fork and spoon experiments. In the TV land they entertain whilst orbiting the Commercial Culinary Colossus that is The Ramsay. The history of many peoples enjoyment of Gordon resembles this. Wow Gordon Ramsay. Good food Gordon. Oh my lord what a dirty mouth you have Gordon. Gordon your so mean. Curse at them Gordon. Isn't this a rehashed version of the last show Gordon. Your anger at that old lady was a little disconcerting Gordon. Piss off Gordon.
I need say little more about the first two Wonders of Sexual Stove Science or the Hells Kitchen Fennel Fascist round which they all reluctantly rotate.
If it were up to me, the televisual kitchen would look like this....everyday.
However, since my culinary opinion has all the importance of Sophie Dahl Pie making Special, I will move on to subject I came here to dicuss.
Moving away from the murky water of sex food and misplaced anger, I would like to express my less than impressed feelings on the practices of a unique individual. The One Man Country Cuisine Chutney Juggernaut. Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. If you need your meat boiled, olive bread made or sleep deprivation cured, look no further.
If you can say one thing about a farmers market he can say ten.
Cooking is cooking. When you transform it into an hour long programme you have to inject other elements to make it a pleasurable experience. TV Chefs have their way of drawing you in. I mean I am not attracted to women but Nigella is very good at making me want to raid my fridge for leftovers at 1am.
Hugh will talk about beetroots like they are some kind of vegetable shaped Tate Exhibition. He and his checkered cohorts 'hmm' over them like they are dubbing soft porn and wander the fields of wherever, looking for cows to measure. The programmes 'arc material' includes a trip to the village pub where humorous and interesting conversation apparently come to die, and the Ladies in Aprons Social Bake Off where, apparently, all of Nigella's hard work comes to die.
They sit on wooden stools discussing beans, sit on derelict farm walls discussing broth and stand in kitchens discussing how the beans going into the broth would make excellent television while we all consider how many blows it would take to render them unconscious.
Hugh then signs off by re-iterating the allure of the countryside. The allure of vegetables and gardens and dirt and yeast.
After having absorbed an hour of his River Monotony House I am only more enamoured with the idea of listening to the radio.
Thank you Tv, you have done it again.
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Monday, 27 December 2010
Salient Minds/Youth In Revolt
I'm considering popularity and how relative it is to prosperity.
2010 was so Avante Garde. Everything was so 'Now', so hip. If you had a little black dress, you may as well have slipped into a sandwich board with the word 'TURD' emblazoned across it in unfashionable ink. However, if you were the owner of an LBD, the world was your oyster, that's a winner, that's what puts you at the top of Heat Magazines Party list. I'm sorry, I will re-phrase. That is just an abbreviation of the first one. I am suddenly cast into the depths of unpopularity because of an abbreviation (that and other things).
In all seriousness, that has to be the 2010 shining example of Lowest Common Denominator Creativity. If you adhere to it you LOL yourself off the end of a PIER.
So, kids, did you know that you can become famous today. No need to wait. We have now reached the PayDay lending era of media interest. Who needs expression of culture. You can scrape your inspiration from the same barrel that MTV uses, post it on YouTube, and BINGO, you're an artist. Think big children. You too can have a dream, a fragrance, a line of stationary. I myself am perched on my seats edge waiting for the Katona Nicotine Patch. It kills cravings and all sense of optimism for humanity. Thats a bargain.
Let's all briefly side step. To all young people, E4 sarcasm machines, emulating every craze as it two-steps its way towards your face through the flatscreen, please allow me to impart a 'totally random' fact.
Wolfgang Mozart was composing music by the age of 5. He was called to Royal court in Salzburg for his outstanding musical ability at the age of 17.
I'm sorry if I'm boring you, I hope you can all stay awake long enough for the next Britains Got Talent audition. However be warned, everyone and their bloody sister can Street Dance. Not everyone can play the piano or the violin.
I know I'm all boring and out of touch kids, don't worry Cowells cruising in his Maybach looking for you right now. Don't listen to me.
Success minus the cubic zirconia, although not heavily publicised, is obtainable. The Times Man of the Year 2010 is 26 years old. He's the CEO of Facebook. I know saying the word Facebook will conjure up the exciting ideas of Apps and Pokes, but let me take the fun out as I do. The Times Man of the Year is a 26 year old Computer Scientist and Software developer. His brain is the basis of his achievements. Salvador Dali created the Persistence of Memory in his 20's.
The two seem to have no cohesion in terms of their achievements. However, if you look from a different angle you will hopefully get my point. Popularity and prosperity is in essence about a focus on your craft. It is about obtaining a depth of knowledge on your chosen craft. Modern media fame has no framework that you can understand and learn from, because there is no lesson, no degree in 'Cool'. The two I have mentioned are different but the same. A dedication to art is parallel to a dedication to Mathematics and Technology as there is beauty in both if that is what choose as your passion.
The young entrepreneurs/creative thinkers are the revolutionary minds. However they choose to enter the history books, they will be there. They will be, in a technological age, what your children read about. Not because they are cool or wear neon, but because, through media hype and Heat front covers, the brilliant minds win out in the end. They always will. Zuckerberg, Dali and Mozart will be there.
As much as the tabloid nation tries to up heave them and replace all sense of history and culture with NDubz and Delusions of Grandeur Factor, the easy access fame will never floor intelligence and complex aspiration.
2011 approaches.
Over and Out.
2010 was so Avante Garde. Everything was so 'Now', so hip. If you had a little black dress, you may as well have slipped into a sandwich board with the word 'TURD' emblazoned across it in unfashionable ink. However, if you were the owner of an LBD, the world was your oyster, that's a winner, that's what puts you at the top of Heat Magazines Party list. I'm sorry, I will re-phrase. That is just an abbreviation of the first one. I am suddenly cast into the depths of unpopularity because of an abbreviation (that and other things).
In all seriousness, that has to be the 2010 shining example of Lowest Common Denominator Creativity. If you adhere to it you LOL yourself off the end of a PIER.
So, kids, did you know that you can become famous today. No need to wait. We have now reached the PayDay lending era of media interest. Who needs expression of culture. You can scrape your inspiration from the same barrel that MTV uses, post it on YouTube, and BINGO, you're an artist. Think big children. You too can have a dream, a fragrance, a line of stationary. I myself am perched on my seats edge waiting for the Katona Nicotine Patch. It kills cravings and all sense of optimism for humanity. Thats a bargain.
Let's all briefly side step. To all young people, E4 sarcasm machines, emulating every craze as it two-steps its way towards your face through the flatscreen, please allow me to impart a 'totally random' fact.
Wolfgang Mozart was composing music by the age of 5. He was called to Royal court in Salzburg for his outstanding musical ability at the age of 17.
I'm sorry if I'm boring you, I hope you can all stay awake long enough for the next Britains Got Talent audition. However be warned, everyone and their bloody sister can Street Dance. Not everyone can play the piano or the violin.
I know I'm all boring and out of touch kids, don't worry Cowells cruising in his Maybach looking for you right now. Don't listen to me.
Success minus the cubic zirconia, although not heavily publicised, is obtainable. The Times Man of the Year 2010 is 26 years old. He's the CEO of Facebook. I know saying the word Facebook will conjure up the exciting ideas of Apps and Pokes, but let me take the fun out as I do. The Times Man of the Year is a 26 year old Computer Scientist and Software developer. His brain is the basis of his achievements. Salvador Dali created the Persistence of Memory in his 20's.
The two seem to have no cohesion in terms of their achievements. However, if you look from a different angle you will hopefully get my point. Popularity and prosperity is in essence about a focus on your craft. It is about obtaining a depth of knowledge on your chosen craft. Modern media fame has no framework that you can understand and learn from, because there is no lesson, no degree in 'Cool'. The two I have mentioned are different but the same. A dedication to art is parallel to a dedication to Mathematics and Technology as there is beauty in both if that is what choose as your passion.
The young entrepreneurs/creative thinkers are the revolutionary minds. However they choose to enter the history books, they will be there. They will be, in a technological age, what your children read about. Not because they are cool or wear neon, but because, through media hype and Heat front covers, the brilliant minds win out in the end. They always will. Zuckerberg, Dali and Mozart will be there.
As much as the tabloid nation tries to up heave them and replace all sense of history and culture with NDubz and Delusions of Grandeur Factor, the easy access fame will never floor intelligence and complex aspiration.
2011 approaches.
Over and Out.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Shovel and a Paving Slab
If you want to know what it will sound like should you ever make some wrong decisions in life and end up at the Gates of Hades, allow me to play for you the Underworld Foyer favourite....
You may at this point ponder the correlation between the Title of this piece and the video you just watched. However, if you feel the way I do (MASSIVE HATE), you surely will not wonder at all.
I am a woman, upper bits and all. I am aware that what makes me, me has nothing to do with gender. It is simply me-based. I feel nauseous repulsion at the proposition that females, should need an hour long day time celebration of desperation and tampons. The concept is irresponsible and idiotic.
At this point I implore, if you are a female who considers this as an option when you sit down for a cup of tea, please be reminded, there are other things for you. Things much less painful. Things like a crossword, or dumping the tea you've just made into your lap would be far less excruciating. Just a thought.
So, there they are, the daytime talking haircuts. Slight fragrance of Chanel and regret. It seems their ideology is to bring a 'Girly' chat to the people at home, but in a televisual form. Now, even under duress, I wouldn't want to have a 'girly' chat with anyone, much less watch a group of 40 somethings do it whilst fondling unsuspecting male celebrities in the name of Equality.
I don't think they can feel embarrassment above the constant repetition of "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves" by Aretha Franklin.
As an individual, I believe I have dignity. I believe I have strength of character and common sense. I have a calm constitution in most situations.
This show is on every week day, The Poundland Sex in the City. Smile montages and Fake Bake.
I have lately considered a call to OFCOM. If you cannot say the word shit before the watershed, surely it is not appropriate to put walking talking shit on Daytime TV and give it a theme tune.
I'm going to watch Dangermouse now.
I bid you good day.
You may at this point ponder the correlation between the Title of this piece and the video you just watched. However, if you feel the way I do (MASSIVE HATE), you surely will not wonder at all.
I am a woman, upper bits and all. I am aware that what makes me, me has nothing to do with gender. It is simply me-based. I feel nauseous repulsion at the proposition that females, should need an hour long day time celebration of desperation and tampons. The concept is irresponsible and idiotic.
At this point I implore, if you are a female who considers this as an option when you sit down for a cup of tea, please be reminded, there are other things for you. Things much less painful. Things like a crossword, or dumping the tea you've just made into your lap would be far less excruciating. Just a thought.
So, there they are, the daytime talking haircuts. Slight fragrance of Chanel and regret. It seems their ideology is to bring a 'Girly' chat to the people at home, but in a televisual form. Now, even under duress, I wouldn't want to have a 'girly' chat with anyone, much less watch a group of 40 somethings do it whilst fondling unsuspecting male celebrities in the name of Equality.
I don't think they can feel embarrassment above the constant repetition of "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves" by Aretha Franklin.
As an individual, I believe I have dignity. I believe I have strength of character and common sense. I have a calm constitution in most situations.
This show is on every week day, The Poundland Sex in the City. Smile montages and Fake Bake.
I have lately considered a call to OFCOM. If you cannot say the word shit before the watershed, surely it is not appropriate to put walking talking shit on Daytime TV and give it a theme tune.
I'm going to watch Dangermouse now.
I bid you good day.
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